Occupation of Independence

What a world it is! It certainly made me appreciate some progress taking placing in the RV industry. I spoke to an older generation RVer who was on their maiden vogage with their loooonnnnng trailer. There were all bushy-tailed and bright-eyed about living the dream. He was from Texas, where his rig might have been a good fit. There were three sites (out of 25) in this campground where his rig would have fit. But of course, they were filled. But he still felt optimistic. After all, they were finally living the dream. from lovethoseclassicmovies.blogspot.com I don't know where they ended up camping for the night. He mentioned that they were now on their way to Moab. Talk about leaving the fry pan for the fire! It was reminiscent of Lucille Ball in "The Long, Long Trailer." I got a kick out of the conversation. In contrast, consider the younger generation in their vans: they can actually fit in campgrounds or parking lots. They are wise to give up on the long RVs of the old

I am still waiting for somebody to explain a bizarre situation that affects many thousands of people per year in Coloraduh. There is this enormous crush of campers trying to get into campgrounds that simply aren't that desirable in the first place.  Why? Don't worry, I won't go on a rant about everything that sucks about Coloraduh camping. The specifics are already well known and are too depressing to read. The explanation is what is at issue. Consider an analogy: my first time in New York City, as a bit of a young hayseed, I exited the taxi from the left side of the back seat. The driver instantly tensed up and shouted, "Hey man, this is New Yawk..." or something like that. With all the traffic rushing by at suicidal speeds just a few inches to the left of the taxi, I believed the driver, took his advice, and didn't make that mistake again. So why is there this crush of people showing up at sunset on a Friday night at a campground in Coloraduh? Couldn't t

I was pleased the other day when I walked up a trail to a tourist attraction, despite disliking tourist attractions and rocky trails. Many people see aversions as a "negative" thing, something to be avoided at all costs. Rubbish.  Aversions are part of a natural cycle that "charges up" the intensity of subsequent pleasures. Without aversions and suffering, experiences are just a bland sugary routine consumer experience. They become American cheese. Yes, the trail was rocky. So I had to reach out in some non-standard-tourist direction to escape this aversion. For awhile it felt good to throw rocks off the trail. Then I got close enough to the waterfall to hear it. It is an interesting and unique sound. Soon we were at the creek below the waterfall, but still couldn't see it. The air was cool and moist. What higher praise can you give? It was a microclimate there along the creek. The trees were tall and straight, unlike the usual scrawny diseased trees of Colorado

A couple times during the night I heard a funny sound on the metal roof of my camper trailer. It must be a very light rain or mist, I thought. Not so. In the morning the campground woke up to an inch or two of snow. It was not crowded here last night, but we had a half dozen campers.  Some people's reaction to this photo might be, "Can't they find something better to do?" It was dead calm for the first time in days. And it was calm in another sense of the word: snow in the trees seems to make it seem quieter, a lovely feeling that is almost the ultimate luxury in a noisy, overcrowded world. One young man was camping by himself. He had his kit arranged neatly on his picnic table. Steam was rising out of his coffee pot. I asked why his tent fly had no snow on it; he said the support-poles were collapsing a little, so when he got up for breakfast, he just shook the snow off. What an attitude this guy had! He took what other people would consider a setback, and made it a